


Shine, Shine My Star

by Ladyfiaran



Series: Sol Duga [2]
Category: Anastasia (1997)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-12-12 01:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyfiaran/pseuds/Ladyfiaran
Summary: The Romanov siblings are separated from their parents while in exile, but all is not what it seemsS





	1. Chapter 1

Late June 1918, Yekaterinburg, Russia

It was warm and sunny outside in the Urals which bisect Europe and Asia, but inside the Ipatiev house on the outskirts of the city it was humid and stuffy with the odor of fried food and boiled cabbage hanging in the air. The only sounds were the heavy boots of soldiers on the wooden floors and the tick of a clock on a wooden table in the parlor as the five Romanov siblings sat on the worn, horse-hair stuffed couch and read books. Their mother Alexandra sat in her wheelchair while her loyal maid Anna expertly fixed her hair, the once-bright red-gold now totally gray around her thin, pallid face.

Nicholas sat in a chair opposite and smoked a cigarette while slowly making his way through the Bible, the baby blue trousers and coarse white peasant shirt loose on his thin frame. It was hard to believe the thin little man was the former czar of Russia, his stooped shoulders, gray thinning hair and dull blue eyes that of someone who had given up and accepted his lot. He looked at his wife and sighed as Alexandra resembled a much older woman, instead of the regal, beautiful empress she had been only a year earlier. Their children had grown thin and pale in captivity as well, the girls having lost their hair due to the measles a year before and their hair now barely to their shoulders. Alexei sat in between Olga and Tatiana and his arms and legs were like skinny white sticks, his light brown hair in need of a cut and his blue eyes sad and ringed by dark circles.

There was a knock on the door and one of the soldiers answered it. Three young men in Bolshevik uniforms stood on the doorstep as the soldier immediately came to attention. "Where is Comrade Yurovsky, we have orders from Comrade Lenin", said the tall blond officer.

"Right this way, comrades", said the soldier as he led them inside. The three officers barely glanced their way as they were escorted to the Commander's office. Yurovsky sat behind his plain oak desk in the tiny office, the ugly little man in his uniform with a pair of glasses perched on his big nose and his swarthy face dominated by bushy black brows and beady dark eyes. "What has Comrade Lenin said?", he asked.

The blond officer handed him an official document with Lenin's seal as Yurovsky read it. "I see. Popov, tell the brats to pack their things and follow the officers. And make sure they don't take any valuables", he ordered.

The three officers and soldiers entered the parlor and the family looked at them with fear. "You Romanov brats, pack your things and follow the officers", ordered the soldier.

"Where are you taking our children?", demanded Nicholas.

"None of your business, citizen Romanov. You will follow Comrade Lenin's orders", he barked.

Alexandra started to cry and tried to reach for her children but the soldier forced them upstairs. "Woman, where is your dignity? We are following orders", sneered the tall, blue-eyed officer.

"May God have mercy on you", she said piously as she reached for the plain wooden rosary under her blouse.

"He has forsaken you, you German whore. And we can kill you right now if you get in the way", growled the brown-eyes officer.

The soldier stood in the doorway of their room and watched as they packed their things. "Girl, why do you need those?", he demanded as Tatiana packed her medical textbooks and a photo album.

"In case I need to treat my siblings and the pictures have sentimental value", she replied with a proud look.

"Wipe that look off your face, you Romanov whore. You are carrying them, no use wasting men to carry a slut princess' things", he sneered.

Tatiana's face was flushed with embarrassment as the siblings finished packing their things and the soldier led them downstairs. The officers waited impatiently as they embraced their parents to bid them goodbye. Both Nicholas and Alexandra appeared to age even more in those few moments as they watched their children being hustled out the door towards an army truck outside and forced to sit in the back under a tarp.

The girls made sure their skirts were tucked underneath them and Alexei was comfortable as the truck's engine rumbled to life and pulled away from the house. Dirt from the road filtered into the back from the narrow opening between the floor of the truck and the tarp as they tried to keep the dirt away from their eyes and mouths. The stink of diesel and the dust from the road filled the hot stuffy air inside the truck and it made it difficult for them to breath as they coughed and gasped.

It seemed an eternity until the truck stopped and the tarp was lifted as the girls slid off the truck with rubbery legs before they helped Alexei. "Get on board", ordered the blond officer as he pointed to an old wooden boxcar on a nearby railroad track.

The siblings looked dubiously at the boxcar attached to a small locomotive, the boxcar made of worn wood with a red hammer and sickle painted on the side. "Go on", snarled the brown-eyed officer as he reached for his pistol.

They hastily scrambled aboard the boxcar followed by the officers as the train lurched forward under them. Inside there was two straw mattress topped by old horse blankets and two pillows, the one window high up near the ceiling and all they could see was a sliver of sky and the tops of trees as the train hurried past as the motion of the train made the wooden planks vibrated beneath them.

"Are we going to Moscow?", asked Alexei.

"Shut up, Romanov spawn. We get there when we get there", snarled the blond officer as the boy cowered in fear.

Olga glared at the officer and stood up to face him. "He is only a boy and he asked a legitimate question", she said coldly.

The officer gave a dry chuckle and reached into his trouser pocket for a box of cigarettes and a matchbook. He lit a cigarette and took a drag before he deigned to answer her, the stink of strong tobacco enough to make most people gag. "You are prisoners of the Soviet, citizeness Romanov. Unless you want to be thrown off and eaten by wolves, shut up", he growled.

The train made it's way through the countryside as the sky outside darkened later in the evening and the outside turned black. The air inside grew cold and the siblings huddled on one of the mattresses with the blanket over them for warmth while the officers played cards and smoked, an occasional curse word coming from them as the girls winced. "You brats are too soft, all that German and English blood has made you soft", sneered the blue-eyed officer.

"The Germans and English are fierce people, unlike you Bolshevik scum", said Anastasia defiantly.

"Shut up, you Romanov slut. We know plenty of brothels which would pay good money for a princess pussy", he snarled as Anastasia cried.

"Nastya, don't provoke them", chided Tatiana.

"They are godless Bolsheviks, they don't have an ounce of decency in them so don't provoke them", said Maria as she gave the officers a look.

"I like a woman with fire, I thought all royal bitches were icy. If you don't shut up, I'll sell you into a Turkish brothel where those filthy bastards willl pay a lot of money", threatened the blue-eyed officer as the siblings clung together in fear.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days passed as the little train made its way to wherever it was going, the passage of time only marked by the position of the sun and sky from the window. They could feel the air become warmer during the day and humid at night as the flies buzzed in through the window, the steady click-clack of the wheels underneath them soothing in its familiarity. After the first day, the siblings kept quiet around the officers as they smoked, drank vodka and played cards, their guttural Russian interspersed with liberal curses that would make the air around them turn blue.

The train came to a stop as the siblings were jolted with alarm. "Grab your things and follow us, don't even think about running away", ordered the brown-eyed officer.

They grabbed their bags and followed them outside as the pitch-black darkness disoriented them. The dirt under their shoes was sandy they could see a large body of water ahead about a hundred yards away, the tiny railroad station just a crude wooden hut manned by a Kazakh man in a turban who smiled at them with gold teeth. "Get on the boat, the tide goes out soon", said the man.

The officers led them on board a wooden ark-like boat that creaked and swayed on its moorings. The siblings went below decks as the officers unmoored the boat just as the tide went out, the swaying of the boat just like that of the train. "Where do you think we are?", asked Alexei.

"Just a guess, but I think it's either the Caspian Sea or the Black Sea. I just hope this ends soon", said Olga with a sigh.

"What's near the Caspian Sea?" asked Anastasia.

"The Caucasus Mountains to the west and the Kazakh territory, they are related to Mongolians like the man at the station", replied Olga.

"I wish I had my pistol, I would rather die than be sold as a slave to some filthy Arab", said Tatiana as her gray eyes flashed with defiance.

"Same here, Tanya. But no matter what, we protect the younger ones. It's the least we can do for Mama and Papa", said Olga.

The following morning, the boat docked and they were ushered onshore to wear a trader's wagon waited. Next to the wagon was a very tall woman in a loose, flowing white robe, her reddish-gold hair done in a neat twist and covered with a turquoise blue headscarf as the man spoke to her in Arabic. "Are you a Circassian?", asked Olga as she tried to get a sense of where they were.

"No, but that is a good guess. Everything will be revealed soon", she replied in Russian, which was excellent except for a slight sing-song lilt.

They got in the wagon and the blond officer got up front to drive. The shore was rocky and fringed with palm trees as the sun was much hotter than in Siberia as the wagon lurched forward. "Can you tell us anything at all?" pleaded Maria to the red-haired woman.

She just laughed and her lovely blue-green eyes were full of mirth. "Patience, all will be revealed. I am Veteema Butler and you have nothing to fear", she said in British-accented English.

"You're British!", exclaimed Alexei.

"Not quite, my dad is American and my mum is Finnish and I was born in Australia. Everything will be revealed once we're in Tehran, I'm sorry if the journey was less than pleasant", said Veteema.

"That is putting it very mildly, Miss Butler. And how come you are here by yourself, that isn't proper", said Tatiana.

Veteema laughed. "I don't give a damn about propriety, Miss Romanova. In my line of work, propriety isn't worth a tinker's damn", she retorted.

"Are you a spy?", asked Anastasia with excitement in her voice.

"Of sorts, we gathered all our intelligence to find out where you were in Yekaterinburg. That and a lot of bribes, apparently the Revolution isn't big on pay days. It's bourgeois, you know", said Veteema with a dry chuckle.

Several hours later, they arrived at the outskirts of Tehran as the officers made them get out of the wagon. "Veteema, take them to the bathhouse while we go to the hotel", said the blond officer.

After having spent a year in Siberia and most of their life in the cocoon of Tsarkoe Selo, the hustle and bustle of the city opened their eyes. While the outskirts of the city had simple mud-brick and stone houses, the center of the city was dominated by enormous government buildings and mosques along wide streets lined with trees as they tried not to gape. The downtown reminded them of St. Petersburg from the few times they had been allowed to visit the city, the smartly dressed young people in the latest styles providing a contrast to the older people in their traditional caftans with the women in headscarves. "Civilization is a good thing", said Veteema with a smile.

"This is a bathhouse, one part is for women and another is for men. Just follow the other people and in the changing rooms, I'll pay for it and I'll join the girls", said Veteema.

The huge building was divided into two sections for men and women as Veteema paid for their session and told the male attendants to be careful with Alexei. "You change in here and wear a towel, just follow my lead", she said.

The girls were momentarily taken aback as the older woman undressed down to her knickers but they followed her lead and discarded their old clothes after seeing the brightly colored caftans inside the lockers. Veteema showed them how to wrap the towels around them and led them to the steam room and motioned for them to sit on a wooden bench. The other women in the room barely looked at them as the female attendants added water to the embers to create steam while others scrubbed down women with rough towels. At first the steam reminded them of the humidity inside the Ipatiev House but they gradually got used to it and they felt pleasantly drowsy as the attendants scrubbed them with towels. "Don't worry about it, you'll feel much better when we're done", said Veteema with a reassuring smile.

"You were right, Miss Butler", sighed Maria after they finished up in the cold room and went back to the locker room.

"Call me Veteema. And didn't you use a banya, I go to the sauna when I'm back in Finland", said Veteema.

"No, our Mama and Papa said it was only for men and not for women", said Tatiana.

"Strange. Listen, when we get back to the hotel and after we eat, everything will be explained", said Veteema.

The girls put on their caftans and combed their hair, Olga in pale pink, Tatiana in royal blue, Maria in lilac and Anastasia in sunny yellow while Veteema's was in the same turquoise as her blue eyes. "Do we have to wear headscarves?" asked Tatiana.

"Not really because you're not Muslim, but I would recommend it so you won't attract attention", she replied.

Veteema helped the girls put on the headscarves and led them to the main hall where Alexei waited, dressed in white baggy pants and a matching shirt. "I'm hungry", he declared.

"No worries, you will eat at the hotel", said Veteema kindly as she led them to the hotel just down the street. The modest three-story white-washed stucco building was cool inside as fans on the ceiling brought in a refreshing breeze along with the potted ferns around the reception area, enhanced by the elegant blue and green tiled floors depiction plants under a blue sky. The officers sat on a bench next to a big pot of ferns but they now wore the same sort of baggy white trousers and jackets Alexei wore which made them look far less sinister.

The blond man got up and smiled at them, the harshness of his face earlier replaced by the affable good nature of a country gentleman. "Terribly sorry about our manners before, but it was necessary for the act to work", he said in a Yorkshire British accent.

"You're English!" Olga exclaimed.

"Sort of, I'm from Yorkshire. I am Ian Sutherland, professor of Medieval Studies at the University of Manchester", he said.

"And I am Pierre Lacroix, I am a professor of Byzantine Studies at the University of Manchester", said the blue eyed man in a Lancashire drawl.

"I am Juan Torres, I own the Wagon Wheel in Manchester", said the brown-eyed man, his accent a curious blend of Manc and Spanish.

"Are we going to England?" asked Anastasia eagerly.

"Si, senorita. Within the next few days, we will take the train to Istanbul and then go on the train to London", said Juan.

Anastasia giggled. "I've never been called senorita before, just Nastya. Is that a rude word?" she demanded.

"No, it's what you call a pretty lady in Spanish", he drawled as she giggled and blushed like a child.

"Mr. Torres, how long is it from here to London?", asked Tatiana as she gave the younger girl a look.

"It's about two days from here to Istanbul, depending on the conditions and then another week to Paris, we change trains and go on another train to Calais and then take the ferry to England. We are going to do some shopping in Istanbul and you will have to rest first", he replied.

"I'm hungry", Alexei muttered.

"Of course, how thoughtless of us. Persian food is amazing, unfortunately one doesn't find it in Manchester", said Pierre with a sigh.

The group entered the hotel restaurant and Pierre ordered their food in fluent Arabic. "Arabic is a common second language throughout the Middle East, even if the official language here in Farsi. My line of study takes me here a lot, there are many Byzantine sites in Israel and throughout the eastern Mediterranean and North Africa", he said.

"You've been to Egypt?" asked Anastasia in disbelief.

"Yes, we both went after graduating uni. He goes more than I do, that's where he gets the research for his books", said Juan.

"You lot will only make the girls dizzy, let them eat and rest first", said Veteema.

"We don't mind, Veteema", said Maria as the waiter brought over their drinks, hot black tea for Anastasia and Alexei and wine for the others.

"Tastes like a good sherry, you do drink wine?" asked Ian.

"No, Mama and Papa said we were too young", said Olga.

"Just sip it slowly until the food arrives, otherwise you'll get sick", he said.

Tatiana took a sip of wine and faced them. "How come you didn't get Mama and Papa?" she asked.

"Miss, it would have been too dangerous. Your parents are too well-known and not in the best of health, the journey might have killed them. And there's no guarantee the King and Parliament would grant them asylum, knowing our spineless king and that daft Welshman Lloyd George, they would rather not have a war with the bloody Soviet state, pardon my language", replied Ian.

Tatiana could only nod as tears filled her eyes. "I hope and pray to God that the Bolsheviks don't kill them, but I will be prepared for any bad news", she whispered.

"I want to kill those sons of bitches", vowed Alexei.

"I agree, but the important thing is that you are out of Russian and you will soon be in England. We would have brought along your parents if we thought they could make it, make no mistake", said Pierre.

"Poor Mama and Papa! I hate those Bolsheviks, they were so mean!" exclaimed Maria.

Pierre smiled kindly at her and patted her hand. "Je se desole, mademoiselle", he said. He took out a set of rosary beads from inside his pocket and pressed it into her hand as the blue-green beads twinkled under the lights. "If you need to pray, you may borrow it", he said.

"Spasibo, Mr. Lacroix", she replied.

Maria glanced down and noticed he didn't have a wedding ring. "My wife died from complications due to eclampsia during the birth of our daughter", he explained.

"How awful!" she exclaimed.

"I know, Nicole kept me going or else I would have gone around the bend. Perhaps one day I will find a woman who could be a good mother to Nicole, but not many women want a single father", said Pierre.

"You will find a good woman someday, Mr. Lacroix", said Maria with a reassuring smile.

Everyone was feeling very good after dinner, the siblings full and satiated after the big meal as it was the best one they had in many months. "Excuse me ladies, do you mind?', asked Pierre as he took out a silver cigarette case with a black enamel Byzantine double-headed eagle and matching lighter.

"No", replied Olga.

Pierre opened the case and selected a cigarette as he lit the tip and took a drag. "May I have one, I haven't had one in days", said Tatiana.

"Of course, Miss. These are Woodbines, my normal brand is Regals but they're bloody hard to find outside of England", said Pierre.

Tatiana picked up a cigarette and he lit it for her as she took a drag. She gasped and her eyes watered from the strong smoke as she coughed and tried to catch her breath. "Woodbines are very strong and they cause that reaction when people smoke them. You'll get used to it", he said.

"I can't wait until I'm old enough to smoke", said Anastasia with a pout.

"Don't start, it's not good and they smell", said Veteema as the waiter came by with cups of mint tea.

"But Tanya smokes", she protested.

"She's a nurse and that is a stressful job, you're still a young girl. It's best not to start", said Veteema.

They finished their tea and cigarettes as the men paid their bill. "We will repay you for everything", said Olga.

"No worries", said Ian.

"I just want to thank you for everything you have done, Mr. Sutherland', said Olga.

"It's the honorable thing, Miss. And please call me Ian or Vanya, Ian is Scottish for John", he chuckled.

Olga giggled and a blush formed on her cheeks as she realized Ian was quite good-looking, tall and blond with brilliant emerald-green eyes. "Spasibo, but it would feel odd to call a British man Vanya", she said.

"No stranger than a half-German, half English Russian girl being named Olga", he teased.

The siblings were escorted upstairs to their rooms while the men and Veteema took the adjacent rooms. Two queen sized beds and a narrow futon waited for them as Olga looked inside the wardrobe to find four white cotton nightgowns and a set of blue pajamas for Alexei. Their brother grumbled good-naturedly as he went inside the walk-in closet to change while the girls put on their nightgowns. "We need to get these repaired", said Olga when she saw the grime underneath her corset.

"I hate these things, I'm never going to be slim so what's the point", muttered Anastasia.

"You are a lady so you must wear a corset, Nastya", chided Tatiana.

"You're thin and have a little waist, Tanya. I'm not", said Anastasia.

"It's puppy fat, remember I was the same way", said Maria as she placed her hands on either side of her waist while looking into the mirror.

"You will lose your puppy fat, Nastya. You have a pretty face and blue eyes and lovely dark blond hair, you will be very pretty soon", said Olga with a kind smile.

"I hope so, I hate being chubby", muttered Anastasia as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was the shortest of the sisters at 5'2 with a round face and pudgy body with puppy fat, her dark blond hair shining with red highlights and her eyes the cornflower blue of the Romanovs.

"Olga is right, you will be a lovely girl one day", said Tatiana.

Alexei emerged from the closet wearing the blue pajamas. "Then I'll have to fight off the boys, Nastenka. That's my duty", he said.

"No longer, Alexei Nicholovich. Tanya and I are old enough to find husbands and perhaps Maria as well", said Olga.

"I don't want my sisters to get hurt, Olya. I'm the man of the family now", said Alexei with a sigh.

Olga put a hand on his shoulder and Anastasia hugged him. "When we get to England, you will no longer be the czarevitch, Lyosha. You are just going to be Alexei, we will all be normal people", said Tatiana with a wistful smile.

"It cannot be any worse or crazy than the last year. I hope we will never have this much excitement again", said Alexei.

Ian saw the dark-haired man in the plain black suit sitting in the lobby and walked over to shake his hand. "We must do this now that they are asleep, the others are in the room?" asked the man.

"Yes, follow me", replied Ian. He led them to the elevator and up to the third floor towards their room as he opened the door, the others still wide awake.

"Hugo, glad you could make it. They are asleep next door and the trip from Russia was a success", said Pierre.

"Good. We need to do this quickly before they wake up", said Hugo Letang.

The others each took a ring from their pockets and placed them on their ring finger on the right hand, Ian's having a green stone, Pierre's purplish-blue, Juan's amber and Veteema's blue-green. Hugo's own ring was heavy and gold with an opaque gray-black stone with the feel of heavy glass and the texture of an opal, tiny white swirls of light flitting about the surface like a wobbly comet.

"We will explain everything tomorrow; they will have to accept it. It's a bloody shame we could rescue their parents but it would have been too conspicuous and neither was in the best of health", sighed Pierre.

"It's not your fault; the siblings are going to be safe thanks to you. It's a shame I have to leave soon, but if we were to send them to England in addition it would be too disorienting for them", said Hugo.

Veteema nodded as she left the room to make sure the corridor was clear before she motioned for them to follow as the men carried their suitcases. She picked the lock with a hairpin and led them inside and they quietly closed the door behind them. The siblings were fast asleep with Olga and Tatiana sharing one bed while Maria and Anastasia shared another and Alexei slept on the futon as the five people made a circle around them. "Megi godin blessa okkur og halda okkur fra skada, getum vio nao arangi og blessa guoi", Hugo intoned as the room was filled with a dazzling white light that enveloped everyone before they disappeared and everything faded to black…


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone woke up feeling good the following morning as the siblings took turns using the shower and got dressed. There was a knock on the door and Veteema stood on the other side with a smile on her face. “I have great news, we got tickets for the evening train to Istanbul”, she said.

“That is excellent news! The sooner we get to England, the better”, exclaimed Olga as she hugged her.

“We’ll have breakfast and then we’ll pack and explain some more”, said Veteema.

The siblings met the others in the dining room downstairs for breakfast. “I’m afraid the Persians don’t do ham and eggs for brekky, they have fruit and yogurt”, said Ian as he pulled out a chair for Olga.

Olga smiled in thanks as Pierre ordered breakfast for the group. “The train leaves at five in the afternoon, we will need to check in at around four thirty. You don’t have to worry about documents, we have taken care of that”, said Ian.

“But how?”, asked Anastasia.

Juan just laughed and now Anastasia noticed that his eyes were an unusual shade of golden amber with orange flecks. “We have our ways, senorita Anastasia”, he chuckled.

“I can speak French and that is similar to Spanish. Monsieur Galliard said I had a good accent”, said Anastasia proudly.

“Tres bien, je parlais Francais as well”, teased Juan.

“Your accent is better than mine!” she exclaimed.

“Nous parlez Francais, mademoiselle. If one is educated in Britain, you will learn French”, laughed Ian.

After breakfast, they all went back upstairs to pack. “Here are your passports”, said Veteema as she handed one each to the siblings. 

Olga opened hers with a confused look on her face and saw her photo and read the information. With a startled cry she dropped the little book and nearly fainted as her face drained of all color. “That is impossible!” she sputtered.

“What nonsense is this?”, demanded Tatiana.

“It is not nonsense, it is Sol Duga magic”, said Veteema.

“What is Sol Duga? And this is impossible, the year is 1918”, said Maria.

Pierre showed them a little calendar atop the nightstand and showed them the date, July 1, 1962. “But how?’’, asked Anastasia.

“We are all hereditary members of Sol Duga, we are four clans of time travelers headed by Hugo Letang and Magnus and Helgi Thorvaldssen. Hugo was here last night and he helped us bring you here forward. But we are still leaving on the train, we can go back and forth in time only from the same place”, said Juan.

A look of horror and shock spread on the older girls’ faces while the younger siblings looked very bewildered. “But that means Mama and Papa and our entire family are dead”, whispered Tatiana.

“And we are no longer Romanovs, our last name is Mayorsky”, said Olga.

“I’m sorry, ladies. But the journey and the shock would have been too much for your parents, but you are safe and under our protection. It will sink in, but this is your new life. We are all going back to England and live in Manchester as ordinary middle-class people, you can go to school or get a job or do what you wish”, said Pierre.

“I hate school”, muttered Anastasia.

“Unfortunately, you cannot get a good job without a school leaving certificate. You can go to a secondary school for at least a year and go on to university or art school, but you must get the certificate”, said Juan.

“I want to go to art school, my tutor said I draw very well”, said Anastasia.

“Of course. Perhaps you can be a professional artist”, said Juan.

“Can the doctors cure me?’’, asked Alexei.

“They don’t cure hemophilia but they can manage it, you would get regular injections of clotting factor from donated blood with your type. You would have to see a hematologist regularly and get tested, but you will live an almost normal life”, said Ian.

“That’s a miracle”, whispered Tatiana.

“Not a miracle, medical science. Science has advanced a lot over the years, and a lot of things. Once we are in England, you will see”, said Pierre.

“And are you going to England as well, Miss Butler?” asked Alexei.

“No, I’m going to Berlin once we reach Istanbul. That’s where I work”, she replied.

“What sort of work?’’, he asked.

“Uh, it’s secret but I can tell you it’s sort of like MI6”, she said.

“What is Russia like now?”, asked Olga.

“The Bolsheviks won and they made a mess of things, Stalin was an evil bastard who killed many people. Lenin died and Stalin became the leader, he was a Georgian peasant. Russia is in a very bad state, but at least Khrushchev is a more sensible chap. You’ll learn more once we get to England”, said Ian.

“If I was the czar, I would hang all of them from the highest gallows and have buzzards peck at them”, Alexei vowed.

“I understand, but you are not the czarevitch anymore, Alexei Nicholovich. All of you must let go of the past and look to the future”, said Veteema.

“We must pack our things and any supplies we may need before we get on the train. Mr. Sutherland, is there anything we need in particular?’’, asked Tatiana.

“Not really, there are clothes in the wardrobe for you. We are spending two days in Istanbul to wait for the train so perhaps we could do a spot of shopping, have them mail it to our addresses in Manchester. But whatever you do, stay close by and don’t wander off. And please call me Ian or Vanya if you prefer, I’m not that old”, said Ian with a laugh.

“All right, Ian. Are we going to have problems with our passports?’’, asked Olga.

“No, look at this”, said Pierre as he showed her the passport. Inside it had entry stamps for Germany and Iran. “You need to fly into Germany and then take another flight to Iran”, he explained.

“Really? People fly in airplanes like passengers?’’, asked Anastasia in shock. 

“Yes, but I prefer a train or boat. More leisurely and the scenery is better”, said Juan with a chuckle.

The rest of the day was spent making sure they packed a few things and tried to remain calm as the clock ticked towards their departure. “By tomorrow we’ll be in Turkey, it’s a beautiful country. And Istanbul is an amazing city, there’s so much to see”, said Pierre enthusiastically as they prepared to leave.

“How many times have you been to Turkey?’’, asked Maria.

“Seven times, since Istanbul was once Constantinople and most of Turkey was part of the Byzantine Empire. A lot of the research for my books comes from visiting sites in Turkey, the Balkans, the Middle East and North Africa. Istanbul is an amazing city, if only we had more time”, said Pierre.

“They are infidels”, said Alexei in distaste.

“They are Muslims, Alexei. They call God Allah but the religion has similarities to Judaism and Christianity. And we are in a Muslim country and Turkey is a Muslim country, albeit secular. Doesn’t Russian have Muslims?’’, he asked.

“Yes, but they live far away from us. Papa said they kidnap Russian women and sell them into harems”, said Alexei.

Veteema sighed. “Not anymore, if a woman is part of a harem it’s because she is married to the man or is his concubine. I am an infidel, Alexei?’’, she asked as she took out her blue stone Ukko hammer from underneath her blouse.

“No, but you worship an idol?” he asked.

“No, I am a Finnish pagan and so is my family. Alexei, the world has changed and you will have to adapt. I mean no disrespect, but there’s a lot you need to k now”, she said.

Around four in the afternoon the group checked out of the hotel and walked a few streets towards the train station. The massive modernist glass and steel building looked incongruous under the hot Persian sun and especially compared to the nearby mosques and large houses of the local rich people, the glint of the sun off the glass bright enough to blind anymore in a ten mile radius. Inside the mingled sounds of hawkers, people chatting and talking in Farsi, Arabic, English and a Babel of languages, announcements from the loudspeakers and the smell of cooking food was disorienting to the siblings as they followed the older people to the ticket window. The line moved forward and the bored-looking man behind the counter looked at their tickets and passports and pointed to the doors which led to the tracks as a porter took their luggage. “I’m going to mail a telegram, would you like to come along, Maria?’’ , asked Pierre.

“Yes, thank you”, she replied.

Tatiana sighed and frowned as they walked towards the Western Union office. “Maria is not a little girl and Pierre is a good man”, said Veteema.

“Maria is a big flirt and he’s older than her with a daughter. I don’t want her to get hurt”, she protested.

“She’s nineteen and legally an adult, and Pierre is an honorable man. Maria is not going to be single forever”, said Ian.

“I agree, Tanya. Surely you wouldn’t mind if Ian and I courted?’’, asked Olga.

Tatiana looked over and saw Olga and Ian sitting side by side and holding hands, her older sister’s cheeks flushed and her blue eyes sparkled. “But you are older and 22 years old, Olya. Masha is only 19”, she chided.

“Am I too young to be courted, Tanya?’’, teased Anastasia.

Tatiana sighed when she saw Anastasia and Juan holding hands. “Yes you are, Nastya. You just turned 17”, she said.

“We can be friends, then? Tatiana, I am not going to hurt her and we can at least be friends”, said Juan.

Tatiana shook her head. “I hope you won’t, please don’t tell me that people know each other carnally before they are married”, she said in dismay.

Ian, Veteema, and Juan all blushed. “They do, it’s rather common”, said the Finnish woman as Tatiana blanched and looked faint.

“Tanya, are you all right?’’, asked Maria as she rushed over.

“People know each other carnally before they are married and it’s normal. What has gone wrong?’’, she muttered.

“Forty years, Tanya. It’s not as though everyone is always shagging, it’s just that it’s not stigmatized”, said Pierre.

“I am going to wait until I marry, I am not going to be a strumpet no matter what”, she vowed.

“That is very honorable, but if you fall short don’t be upset”, said Veteema.

Tatiana sighed and followed the group towards the train as they boarded. It gradually filled with passengers who ranged from country people in traditional clothes to smartly dressed young people in the latest fashions to families with children in tow. “Beyond this car is the dining car and past that are the sleeping cars. We cross into Turkey around midnight but we got the Turkey stamps already”, said Ian.

The last few passengers scrambled aboard as the train’s whistle tooted. Soon they had left the station and were out in the suburbs of Tehran as the train headed westwards. Tatiana reached into her dress pocket and took out a pack of Regals Pierre had bought her from the Western Union and flipped open the lid of the blue and silver box. She took out one of them and lit the tip with a match from a cheap matchbook as her hands shook slightly. Tatiana took a drag and the first hit of nicotine entered her system as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. Pierre nodded in understanding and lit his own Regal which came from inside a silver cigarette case with a black enameled Byzantine eagle on the lid. “Lucky they sold Regals, I was getting sick of Woodbines. I am going to stock up once we’re in Istanbul”, he said.

“Do you speak Turkish?’’, asked Maria.

“Evet, Bayan Masha. Ihfiyacim, var cunku Turkiye ye cok geldim”, he replied.

“What does that mean?’’, she asked in awe.

“Yes, Miss Masha. I need to because I’m in Turkey so much”, he translated.

“Pierre can speak many things, I only know Russian and French”, teased Ian.

“It comes in handy in my travels, Johnny. And Turkish is a simple language, everything is pronounced the way it looks and. Once outside of Istanbul, it’s very useful”, he replied.

The train made its steady way westwards through the Zagros Mountains on the northern edge of Iran as the locomotive skirted the foothills and passed through the area with its snow-capped peaks and valleys. Villages were scattered about and shepherds led large flocks from their pastures back to their farms as the animals glanced up from their grazing. Tatiana took a drag off her Regal and glanced out the window as the sun had halfway set against the horizon, the landscape not unlike the approach to Livadia from inland Crimea. “It does resemble inland Crimea, Tanya”, said Olga.

“Yes, it’s only a few kilometers from Russian territory”, she replied as she looked down at the map on her lap.

“That’s the Azerbaijan territory, they are Caucasians. So near and so far”, Olga mused aloud.

Tatiana took another drag and watched as Pierre showed Maria a Turkish language guide and while Juan and Anastasia talked softly in French. She had to laugh when Alexei kept asking Veteema questions and kept leaning over to peer over her shoulder at a book on her lap as the older woman smiled and pointed to something. “Do you think Lyosha fancies Veteema?’’, asked Olga.

“Yes, but she’s too old for him. He’s only thirteen and starting to get interested in girls”, said Tatiana.

“We’re approaching the Turkish border, just show the officials your passports and if they ask questions, I’ll answer them”, said Pierre as the trains stopped at the border.

The customs officials in their olive drab uniforms with matching berets and Turkish flag patches on the front pockets boarded the trains and checked passports and documents. One of them looked at Pierre’s passport and smiled as he stamped an empty page. “Lacroix Bey, glad to see you here. Are you doing research for your next book?’’, asked the official.

“Hayir, I’m on holiday with friends and my girlfriend’s family. We’re going to spend several days in Istanbul and we’re going to see the sights”, he replied.

“Excellent, Lacroix Bey. I hope you enjoy your trip”, he said as he stamped their passports.

“How come they know you and what does Bey mean?’’’, asked Alexei as the group settled in the sleeping car.

“Bey is Sir, it goes at the end of the name. I go to Turkey a lot and my books have been translated into Turkish”, said Pierre.

“Yeah, he’s a great bloke to have on a trip”, teased Juan.

Alexei sat on the bottom bunk and watched as the other men claimed their bunks while his sisters were in the next car. “I think I’ve done more traveling in the last few days than I have in my whole life”, he mused aloud.

“We still have to arrive in Istanbul and then go to England, Lyosha. Once we get to England, you may not want to travel anymore”, said Ian with a grin.

“Maybe, but I still want to see more of Britain, all we saw was the regatta at Cowes and we had guards everywhere”, said Alexei.

“Trust me, you’re going to see more of Britain”, said Pierre.

“I hope so”, said Alexei as he tried to stifle a yawn.

“Let’s get some sleep, we ought to be in Cappadocia tomorrow”, said Ian.


	4. Chapter 4

Pierre lit Tatiana’s cigarette and then his own as the siblings looked goggle-eyed at the amazing scenery outside the window. “I know, Cappadocia is a smashingly beautiful place. And since it’s a bit out of the way, there’s fewer tourists than in Istanbul”, he said as he took a drag off his Regal.

 

“They look like fairy castles”, said Maria in awe.

 

“It’s millions of years of erosion, the early Christians built homes and underground cities here because the rock was so soft. Whenever they got word about an invading army, they would bring in supplies and livestock and hide until the danger was over”, Pierre explained.

 

“That sounds amazing, and it does look like something out of a fairy tale. Or perhaps a story about outer space”, said Anastasia.

 

“Then you ought to read Jules Verne if you haven't already, Nastya”, said Veteema.

 

“I like those stories, especially From the Earth to the Moon. Imagine how big that cannon must be to send people into outer space”, said Alexei in wonder.

 

“Well, the Americans and Russians have sent rockets into outer space and just recently they have sent up people as well”, she replied.

 

Alexei’s eyes were wide as saucers. “Amazing! Did they use a big cannon?”, he asked.

 

“No, it’s a rocket ship. You can read about it in the newspapers”, she said.

 

“Have women been to outer space?”, demanded Anastasia.

 

“Not yet, but there are rumours the Russians are working on it”, said Veteema.

 

“Such wonders”, she murmured in awe.

 

“I know, Nastenka”, teased the older woman.

 

Tatiana had smoked her cigarette down to the very tip of the filter and left the end in the ashtray atop the dining car table. “Do I need to go to school to be a nurse?”, she asked.

 

“Yes, you either go to a regular uni or a nursing school. I would recommend a regular uni because you may not want to be a nurse after all and you can study something else, the University of Central Lancashire has a fine nursing program. But you can also study to be a midwife or a doctor, women can be doctors now. Especially in obstetrics and anything involving children”, said Pierre.

 

“I want to continue being a nurse, I still can’t believe women are actual doctors. It would have been considered indecent”, said Tatiana.

 

“Not anymore. If you want to change your mind, you can always go back to school and become a doctor”, said Ian.

 

“I tried to become a nurse but it was too much for me, I preferred the clerical side. So it’s common for women to work, even wives?”, asked Olga.

 

“Yes, especially if they don’t have kids or if the husband doesn’t work. You could go to school and learn to be a clerk or a secretary, that’s a common job for women”, replied Ian.

 

“I like that, I much preferred the administrative side of nursing”, said Olga.

 

Maria’s gaze was glued to the amazing scenery outside the window and now she wished she had her drawing pad. “I feel the same way, Masha”, said Anastasia in understanding.

 

“Do both of you draw?”, asked Juan.

 

“Yes, we all had art lessons but Masha and I were the best at it. And this is a stunning landscape, I’ve never seen anything like it”, replied Anastasia.

 

“I know, we were so frightened and nervous on the train to Siberia. And then to the Urals we didn’t see anything because the train’s windows were blacked out”, said Tatiana.

 

“Turkey is an amazingly beautiful country, and so is Britain. Manchester isn’t that far from the Lake District and the parks in Yorkshire. It’s wonderful to just stay at a hostel at one of the parks and go hiking”, said Pierre with a dreamy look.

 

“He’s right, the north country is smashing. And the walking is terrific exercise, every bit of exercise helps”, said Ian.

 

“Do people just go to a park and walk? Do they pick flowers?”, asked Olga.

 

“Not quite, people wear boots and long trousers to go hiking and they do it for many kilometres”, said Juan.

 

“How odd, is it poor folk who do that?”, asked Maria.

 

“No, people from all walks of life. It’s a normal British thing to do”, said Pierre.

 

“There’s a lot to learn”, said Olga.

 

“And I intend to show you, Olenka”, teased Ian.

 

Tatiana looked out the windows of the dining car as the evening darkness descended upon the central plains of Anatolia and the the mountains were silhouetted against the late evening sky. She took out the pack of Regals from her pocket and opened the lid as she selected a cigarette and lit the tip, a frown on her lips when she saw that a few of them were slightly bent and decided to buy a cigarette case when they stopped in Istanbul.

 

She lit the tip and took a drag as the trains continued its steady way west, the motion not unlike a ship under her feet. “Those cause cancer, you know”, said Veteema.

 

Tatiana flinched and almost dropped the cigarette. ”Don’t do that!”, she exclaimed.

 

“Sorry, but you ought to be more observant”, said Veteema.

 

“Are you a spy, then? And I am a nurse, I know everything will eventually kill you”, she retorted.

 

“New studies show that cigarettes might cause cancer later on. Especially lung and other cancers of the throat and mouth”, said Veteema.

 

Tatiana took another drag and exhaled. “The word is might, Vetemaa. Everything will kill you someday and make you sick. I am more afraid of a bullet than a risk if of cancer when I am old. And I’m glad I don’t have to worry when my next cigarette is coming from”, she said.

 

“You shouldn’t have started in the first place, Tatiana”, she chided.

 

Tatiana sighed. “I started at the hospital, several of the older nurses smoked. And it was stressful and smoking is the only way I could get a break. I saw horrible things, but we also helped many people. I am going to be a nurse in England”, she said.

 

“Good luck, Tatiana”, replied Vetemaa.

 

Maria watched as Pierre wrote a word in Russian and then in Turkish, his Cyrillic script graceful and smooth as though he was a native. “This is a list of common Turkish words and phrases, read them out loud. Remember, the pronunciation of vowels and consonants is the same as English and most sounds are pronounced the way they look”, he said.

 

Maria nodded and looked down at the paper. “Mechaba, adiniy neelic?”, she said.

 

“Beneinn adim Pierre Lacroix”, he replied.

 

“My name is is. Nasilsiniy, Pierre Bey?”, she asked.

 

“Tyiyin, ya siy?”, he replied.

 

“This is an easy language, Pierre. It’s certainly easier than German”, she said with a laugh.

 

“German is a devil of a language and ugly-sounding to boot. Even I can’t speak it, and I speak dead languages”, he chuckled.

 

“How did you learn to speak Latin?”, she asked.

 

“At school, I went to Sacred Heart primary school and then St. Paul’s Secondary school. Then I went to the University of Manchester where I got my BA in Ancient History and I got my Masters in History at Cambridge. Perhaps when I have more time, I can get my doctorate”, he replied.

 

“But you are a professor, can’t you do your doctorate at the school where you work?”, she asked.

 

“No, it’s a conflict of interest. When I save up enough money, I’ll take a few years off to do my doctorate at Cambridge”, he replied.

 

“I feel dumb compared to you, Pierre. All I know is English and French and I didn’t like school work”, said Maria with a sigh.

 

“Listen to me, Maria. Don’t ever call yourself dumb, you are a very intelligent young woman. You speak fluent English and French and you’re good at picking up languages. Perhaps your teachers didn’t push you hard enough or your parents didn’t. You’re not dumb, Maria”, he said.

 

Maria was taken aback momentarily by the intensity in his voice and how his eyes changed color to a vivid purplish-blue like a polished Tanzanite. “I’m sorry about that, Masha, it’s Scorpio thing. But you are not dumb at all, some people aren’t good at lessons where you sit at a desk. I am good at that, but many people are not. Did you prefer to draw?”, he asked.

 

“Yes, if it was pleasant outside. I have trouble concentrating on my studies and wanted to be sketching. Do you think I ought to study art?”, she asked.

 

“Or perhaps go to a regular university and major in art while learning other things. What do you want to do?”, he asked.

 

Maria looked startled at the question. “I never thought about that before. I always thought I would marry and have children, just like Mama. I do want to have children and marry, I love kids”, she said with a smile.

 

“Then you will like Nicole, a lot of women don't’ want to marry a widower with a child. Too much responsibility, you know”, said Pierre with a dry chuckle.

 

He took out a picture from his wallet and beamed with pride. “She’s beautiful”, said Maria.

 

“Merci, Masha”, he chuckled. The little girl appeared to be four or five and wore a navy blue sailor dress, her wavy black hair falling to her shoulders and her eyes were the same unusual purplish-blue as her father’s. 

 

“This was taken at the seaside in Blackpool, she wanted to go on the carousel. Blackpool is a seaside town in Lancashire, it’s got a big fun fair and a tower with a ballroom. Nictje keeps asking me when she’s going to get a Mum”, he chuckled.

 

“Nictje?”, she asked.

 

“Oh, that’s her nickname. Cissy, my wife, was Dutch and that is Dutch for little Nicole”, he explained.

 

“I see. Does your daughter know Dutch?”, she asked.

 

“Ja, she does visit her mother’s relatives in Zeeland during August for two weeks and they call regularly and send letters. I can speak Dutch at a simple level, it’s close enough to English for it to be understandable. She also knows French and says she wants to be a teacher like me, I’ve taken her to Athens and Istanbul with me. When she’s older, I’m going to take her to North Africa and the Middle East, she’s still too young”, replied Pierre.

 

“Why do the men have to be in the other compartment? Don’t people mingle now?”, asked Anastasia as she stripped off her dress and put on her nightgown.

 

“Nastya, remember that you are a lady. You aren’t married to Juan and you’re too young to date him”, chided Tatiana as the older girl brushed her dark brown hair and began to plait it.

 

“I’m seventeen, Mama was getting marriage offers at my age. And Juan is not that old, he’s twenty-seven”, said Anastasia defiantly to her older sister.

 

“Nastya, you are too young. Juan is a nice man but you ought to concentrate on school first”, said Olga as she brushed her dark blond hair.

 

Anastasia sat down on her bunk with a huff as her straight light brown hair flopped around her face. “Olya and Masha can be with Ian and Pierre, I am not a baby”, she pouted.

 

“Olya is the eldest and Masha is older than you, Nastenka. And you are acting like a baby, when you calm down and start acting like a grownup, then we will think about it”, said Tatiana as she finished braiding her hair.


	5. Chapter 5 Part 1

The sun was just beginning it's descent over the Bosporus when the train arrived at Sirkeci station in Istanbul. "Finally, my legs are so stiff", muttered Alexei as he got up from his seat and stretched his legs.

"Same here", said Anastasia.

"We are going to rest up first and then we get something to eat. Tomorrow we get on the Orient Express", said Ian with a sigh.

"I can't wait to be in England", said Tatiana.

"Same here. But we'll be in England in less than a week", said Pierre.

The group got their bags and Pierre led them towards the bus lot outside the station as Veteema hailed a cab. "I'm going to miss you lot, I'll send you my post address in Berlin", she said as she shook hands with all the siblings.

"Have a safe flight, Miss Butler", said Alexei.

"I will. Au revoir, mes amis", she said before getting into the cab.

"Is it safe for a woman to travel by herself on her own?", asked Alexei.

"Of course, Veteema is a tough girl. She'll be fine", said Juan.

Everyone boarded the little black bus as Pierre paid the driver and soon the little vehicle was full as it began to move. The bus made several stops around the area to let off people and pick up passengers as the siblings tried to get a better view of the city. "Too bad we can't see much tonight, but we all want to get to England soon as possible", said Ian.

The little bus stopped at the shores of the Golden Horn and the men took the bags off the vehicle. The sun had set some more and turned the still waters of the city's harbor a brilliant reddish-gold tinged with black and blue at the edges while on the opposite shore they could see the wide streets and neon signs of Beyoglu, the restaurants and clubs. To their right the Golden Horn met the Bosporus and both emptied into the Sea of Marmara further south, on the far Asian shore they could see the start of the enormous suburbs of the city with their three and four story buildings and little houses.

"Here's the tickets for the ferry, stay close so you don't get lost", warned Ian.

A crowd of people gathered around the dock as the little white ferry approached the shore, the red and white Turkish flag waving proudly in the breeze. The siblings cling to each other as the crowd surged forward onto the ferry and tossed the tickets onto a bucket on the deck in front of a burly sailor as he stopped the crowd when the boat reached it's capacity. The little ferry tooted its whistle as it was untied from the moorings and moved away from the shore. The dying sun's rays cast its light on the water as the ferry sailed across the wide mouth of the Golden Horn while seagulls swooped down to catch fish and their squawks filled the air.

Barely five minutes later, the ferry docked on the other side and the crowd scrambled to get off. "It's only a short walk to the hotel, we'll rest up and get dinner", said Pierre.

The area around the hotel was just starting to wake up for the evening as owners of the various cafes' and restaurants unfurled their awnings and set out tables and chairs. Several of the cafes' blared Turkish and Middle Eastern pop music from little portable transistor radios and some of the owners called out to women passing by as the women either ignored them or flirted right back. Tatiana sighed and a frown formed on her lips when Maria and Anastasia flirted right back. "Be careful, it isn't proper to do that in a foreign country", she chided.

"It's just a bit of fun, Tanya. They're young girls and they are just having a bit of fun", said Pierre.

"I keep forgetting this is not our time and we are not at Tsarkoe Selo, Pierre. It's my instinct", said Tatiana.

Their hotel was a modest three story building a few streets away from the main commercial area. Inside it was warm and homey with the polished cream tile floor covered in large rugs in muted earth tones done in a Paisley design and the scent of flowers which came from the potted red tulips placed around the lobby. Pierre walked up to the front desk and said something to the clerk as he returned the keys and porters went to take their bags. Pierre tipped them and opened the doors to the two rooms across from each other. "This is room is for the men and the other is for the women, rest up and we'll get supper", he said.

"Nastya, we ought to unpack our evening clothes and an outfit for tomorrow", said Tatiana as Anastasia flopped down on the bed.

"I'm tired and he said to rest, Tanya", she retorted.

"She's right, Tanya. Maybe you ought to rest too", said Maria.

"I won't rest until we're in England, Masha. All of this feels like a dream, like we are going to wake up and find ourselves back in that dreadful place. It just feels so unreal", said Tatiana with a sigh.

Olga had a mischievous smile on her face as she leaned over and pinched her arm. "Oww!", Tatiana shrieked.

"That was real, wasn't it, Tanushka? What we're experiencing is very real, and I am grateful. I shudder to think what those horrid men at the house had in plan for us, they would have killed us or worse", said Olga with horror.

"What's worse than being dead?", asked Anastasia.

The older sisters exchanged looks. "Uh, being sold into a brothel and forced to be intimate with men, Nastya. That would be worse than being dead", said Olga.

"How awful!", exclaimed Maria.

"I would kill the bastards first", vowed Anastasia.

"Nastya, mind your language. And I agree", said Tatiana.

"We're not royal anymore, remember? And there are worse things to call someone", said Anastasia with a cheeky smile.

"Nastya, you are still a lady. It's not nice to use that language", said Tatiana.

:"All right, Governess. I want to do everything, even go to school. I want to travel, and watch lots of films and have a boyfriend. I want to see and do everything", Anastasia sighed dramatically as she sprawled out on the bed.

"When we go to England and settle down, Nastenka. Now we rest and then we get supper", said Tatiana.


	6. Chapter 5 Part 2

"I really like these modern dresses, we can move more easily in them", said Olga as she admired her pink A-line dress in the mirror.

"The skirt is quite short, but Pierre says that's the fashion now. In London, women wear skirts above the knee and high-heel shoes", said Tatiana as she looked down at her own A-line dress in royal blue.

"I want to wear that, Tanya. And high heel shoes, I'm so short", said Anastasia. Her own A-line dress was in bright canary yellow and she lifted the skirt to reveal her knees and legs still chubby with baby fat. "I can't wait to be slim like you all, Masha grew out of it", she said with a frown.

"We all grew out of it, Nastya. I was chubby like you and then I got tall and slim", said Maria as she hugged her younger sister. The third Romanov sister's own dress was in pale lilac that set off her big blue eyes, chestnut brown hair and peaches and cream complexion, her hair loose around her shoulders in rich brown waves.

"I hope so, if I am going to have a boyfriend I must be slim and pretty first", said Anastasia.

"You are pretty, Nastya. You will be even more pretty soon", said Maria.

"But you are still too young to be courted, Nastya. You ought to be in school", chided Tatiana.

"What if I turn eighteen, may I have a boyfriend then, Governess?", she retorted as her blue eyes twinkled.

Tatiana bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Nastya, your tongue is sharp as ever. We will see about that, but you ought to start acting like an adult", she said.

The girls finished dressing and did their hair and makeup before they left the room. Ian's green eyes lit up and a smile formed on his lips when he saw Olga in her dress as he took her hand to his lips and lightly kissed it. "Sont tres belle, Olenka", he said.

Olga giggled and a blush formed on her cheeks. "Merci, Ian. And you look quite good yourself", she replied as he chuckled. He wore black slacks and a buttoned-down white shirt and black tie with his blond hair neatly combed as a hint of cologne clung to him.

Maria straightened Pierre's blue and gray tie as he chuckled at the little intimacy. He too wore black slacks and a white shirt but topped off by a black blazer, his black hair dabbed with Brylcreem and a curl rakishly hanging over his forehead. "You smell very nice, Pierre", she said.

Pierre laughed and his lips turned up in a grin. "Merci, it's Aqua Velva Musk aftershave. I have to shave twice a day or else I grow a beard, blame my French genes", he joked.

"Can you grow a beard fast too, Juan?", asked Anastasia.

"Si, Nastenka. It's an unfortunate Latin thing, but it just means we're more virile", he laughed.

Anastasia leaned on his arm and inhaled his scent, an almost comical sight as she was 5'2 to his 6 feet. "I like it, what is it?", she asked.

"Bay Rum aftershave", he replied.

"I can't wait to have a beard, my face is too smooth", said Alexei as he stroked his chin.

"You're only thirteen, in a few years you might be able to grow a beard but you will have to be careful with shaving until the treatment takes", warned Pierre.

Soon they were at a little restaurant down the street seated at a large table while the waiter set down a tray of tea in little glasses shaped like tulips. "Soon the waiter comes with a tray of cold appetizers, just choose what you like", said Ian.

"This is like Russian tea", said Olga as she took a sip.

"It is, it's stronger than our tea back in England. I don't take milk in my tea anymore after having tried Turkish-style tea, plus tea with cream and four sugars isn't good for you", said Pierre.

A waiter cleared away their tea glasses and brought over a bottle of raki along with a little bottle of spring water and eight glasses. "Look at this", said Juan. He poured raki into a glass followed by the water as the liquid turned a milky white, much to their amazement.

"It's a chemical reaction, like with absinthe when it turns green after you add water", explained Ian.

"Amazing. Sometimes I think we are still in a dream and we'll wake up back in that horrid house. I still feel a bit guilty that we're alive", said Olga with a thoughtful frown.

"This is not a dream, Olenka. And you have nothing to feel guilty about, we found out where you were and got you out of there. Your parents would want you to be happy and take this chance to live a normal life", said Ian.

Olga blushed. "It must be raki talking, Ian. Mama always said I was moody", she said.

"In Vino Veritas, Olya. There's no reason to feel guilty", said Ian as Olga hugged him.

Tatiana sipped her raki and watched as Anastasia and Alexei giggled while Olga and Ian hugged. Maria shrugged and shook her head as she gestured to their younger siblings while Juan smiled in understanding. "If Ian is going to court Olga, you two ought to stop giggling like children. It's perfectly normal for people to hug", said Tatiana.

"Sorry, Tanya. But at least it's not kissing, that's gross", said Alexei.

"You'll want to kiss girls when you get older, Lyosha", teased Maria as their brother looked a little green.

A waiter came over with a tray of various cold dishes on tiny plates: olives and other pickled vegetables, slices of white cheese, slices of melon, cold salads with pickle, dolmas stuffed with cheese, rice and meat inside grape leaves and little mounds of rice with fried bits of seafood. "Just like zazuzki", said Maria as she tried an olive.

"it is, it's a common thing in a lot of Eastern cuisines. And it's a good way to have alcohol without making yourself sick", said Juan as he poured him and Anastasia another glass of raki.

Tatiana nibbled on a slice of melon and felt odd without the familiar constriction of the corset around her middle. She looked down at her dress and frowned at her thin, boyish figure with her small bosom and narrow hips and wondered if she could have a corset made once they were in England. "Tanya, you aren't wearing a corset so you don't have to eat so little", said Anastasia.

"I'm still not used to this, Nastya. It feels strange, we've been wearing corsets since we were twelve", said Olga.

"That isn't good for you, ladies. They can damage your organs and make it difficult to bear healthy children. Mum had to stop wearing hers when she married Dad so she could have children", said Ian.

"Really? But all the ladies we know wear them and have normal children", said Maria.

"Doctors say it's not good to wear t hem and in any event they went out of style in the 20's and only old women wear them. I know this because my sister Skye is a nurse", said Ian.

"I love that, I hate corsets", said Anastasia with glee.

"I still want to get one made, I have a boyish figure", said Tatiana.

"All right, but not too tight", said Ian as the waiter cleared away the dishes.

Several minutes later and another round of raki, the waiter came by with the main course, kebabs and rice with grilled vegetables and flat bread. "I tried making these at home but I can't find the appropriate spices in the shops", said Pierre.

"I suppose you might have to go to London for that, but perhaps we can try. We had to learn how to cook", said Maria.

"What can you make?", he asked.

"Bread rolls, blini with sour cream, solyanka but there was no meat for the soup. I want to try cooking English food", said Maria.

"Masha was the best of us at cooking", said Olga as Maria blushed.

"It's true, Mashenka. You will make a fine wife someday", said Tatiana.

The dinner was finished and the rest of the group went back to the hotel but Pierre, Juan and Tatiana went to a local nargile café. "This is why we didn't have after-dinner cigarettes", explained Pierre.

The aroma of strong tobacco and the sound of Turkish pop from a radio atop a table greeted them as Pierre said something to one of the waiters. They were led to a small pile cushions around a low table on which stood a water pipe, the bowl made of polished glass and the pipe and stand of gleaming brass. The waiter brought over three little glasses of tea and prepared the pipe, the little heated coals on the brass stand making the water in the bowl boil. "This is the traditional Middle Eastern way to smoke tobacco, it can be plain tobacco but there's tobacco flavored with fruit as well", said Juan.

"We're going to be smoking the peach-flavored tobacco, the peach gives it a very pleasant aroma", said Pierre as the waiter inserted a plastic mouthpiece at the end of each pipe.

Tatiana sat cross-legged on one of the cushions and watched as Pierre inhaled smoke through the pipe and then exhaled a little cloud of peach-scented smoke. "It's only a little drag, not a big one like a cigarette", he said.

She nodded in understanding and inhaled a bit of the tobacco smoke from the pipe before exhaling. "It's not bad, but still prefer cigarettes", she said.

"I understand, the Turkish tobacco is very strong. It does have less nicotine on its own so it's blended with other sorts of tobacco, and the fruit adds more flavor. I couldn't smoke it this way at home, I couldn't have Nicole smell it", said Pierre.

"I understand. Pierre, what are your intentions towards Maria?", she asked as she sipped some tea.

"I like Maria a lot, she is a sweet, pretty, intelligent young woman. I think she would make a wonderful mother to Nicole and a very good wife, I haven't dated anyone since Cissy died. Maria is the first woman I have had an interest in, if you want I will ask your brother for permission", he replied.

"You don't have to do that, and what exactly is dating? Is that like courting?", she asked.

"Sort of, young people go out to a show, the cinema, or for a walk in a park. Uh, they don't have a chaperone unless they are very young", said Pierre.

"But what if the boy tries something?", she asked in dismay.

"Most boys wouldn't do that unless they were raised to be complete wankers, pardon my language. Mum and Dad raised us properly, heck my brother is a priest at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart", said Pierre.

"That is very good to know," said Tatiana.

"And how about myself, I may own a night club but I am not a complete bounder. I was raised properly by Mum and Dad, I go to Mass each Sunday and I am financially solvent", said Juan with a rakish grin.

"Yeah, you're great at betting on the right team", teased Pierre.

"I always bet on Man United to win, that's easy because they always win. That's one of our football clubs, Manchester City are the other but they are crap, excuse my language", said Juan.

Tatiana tried to keep a straight face but couldn't help the chuckle which escaped her lips. "You have too much Spanish swagger, Juan Torres. But seriously, what are your intentions towards Nastya?", she asked before taking a drag off the pipe.

"I like her a lot, contrary to my reputation I don't fancy loads of girls. She's a charming, intelligent lovely young woman and a lot of fun to be around. I would like to date her and at the least be friends", he replied.

Tatiana nodded. "I see. Masha and Nastya are gently bred and not very knowledgeable about men. If you hurt them, I can use my nurse training to make your life miserable", she vowed as her gray eyes turned the color of storm clouds.


	7. Chapter 6

"Istanbul is an amazing city and so beautiful, but I will very glad when we arrive in England", said Olga.

"Of course, there is no place like home. Too bad the bloody train goes through such dull places, and we have to stay at a hotel in Sofia because they have to change the cars. The trains use a different grade in Bulgaria and Yugoslavia, and then in Vienna we have to change back to a regular grade", said Pierre.

"What is Sofia like?", asked Maria.

"Big and ugly, typical Communist city. We'll just stay at the hotel, there's nothing to see and the local authorities don't like travelers wandering about. Belgrade is the same, at least when we stop in Vienna there will be places to see", he replied.

The group boarded the train for the first part of their trip to Britain. The train was one of the locomotives which made the journey known as the Orient Express and the interior certainly lived up to its name. The seats were upholstered in deep purple velvet and the cars were illuminated by electric lights suspended from the ceiling, all the brass and dark wood fixtures recently polished as they gleamed in the light. "We arrive in Sofia tonight, tomorrow we head out to Yugoslavia", said Ian.

They found their seats as the porters loaded their bags and the other passengers scrambled aboard to find their seats. Olga took out her Balkan language guide and a little notebook along with a slim black ballpoint pen. "This is amazing, it's not as sloppy", she said as she drew a little swirl on the paper.

"I know, when I was a lad we still had to use fountain pens. These are so much more convenient and they are cheap now", said Ian.

Olga nodded in agreement and opened her little black leather purse to reveal her passport, small brown leather wallet and three black ink pens. "We won't be spending much time in Bulgaria and just stay quiet, you may have British passports but they might think you're actually Russian. Just use your best British English", said Ian.

"Do people mistake you for French?", Maria asked Pierre.

"At first, but when they saw my passport and heard my accent, they realized I was British. But just speak with your best British accent", replied Pierre.

The train's whistle blew several times before the last few passengers scrambled aboard. The floor of the car vibrated under their feet as the train slowly pulled out of the station. Soon they were in the northern suburbs of the city as the buildings became fewer and farther in between, the suburbs given over to small towns and villages. In between the little towns were vineyards and farms whose produce ripened in the late July sun, the vines heavy with green and purple grapes which heralded an early crop.

Barely two hours later, the train stopped at the Bulgarian border as the customs officials entered the carriage, vaguely menacing in their olive-green uniforms with the Republic's coat of arms in their caps and shirts with the lion surrounded by sheaves of wheat and topped with a red star. Their heavy boots echoed on the floor of the carriage as they checked everyone's passports, several of the passengers being escorted off the train for having fake documents. Pierre was calm an he showed the officer his passport and Maria followed his lead. The officer checked their passports with a bored look on his face and handed them back.

The officials left the carriage and soon the train was on the move again. "That wasn't so bad", said Alexei.

"Don't jinx it, it could be more difficult in Yugoslavia. They broke off relations with the Soviet Union and any Russians entering the country are under suspicion. Just use your best proper British accent, they might not understand a Yorkshire accent", teased Juan.

The train ride through the length of Bulgaria took them from the fertile lowlands of Thrace near the Black Sea to the mountainous terrain in the center of the country. It passed by numerous little farming villages surrounded by fields of wheat and vegetables, pastures where cows and goats grazed and vineyards where grapes grew fat under blue skies. Olga looked through her Balkan phrasebook and tried to read the Serbian and Bulgarian words as she wrote them down in her notebook. "This is very similar to Russian", she said.

"I know, but you ought to tell Pierre that. He speaks both in addition to Russian", said Ian.

"Indeed I do, Ian. There's a lot of Byzantine ruins in Macedonia and southern Serbia, along with Albania and in Bulgaria. If we had time, we could have visited the Archaeological Museum in Sofia, they have a large collection of Thracian and Byzantine artifacts, as well as from the ancient Bulgarian kingdom conquered by the Macedonians. And in Macedonia, there are several archaeological sites which are cities by Justinian and his family, he was originally from Macedonia", said Pierre.

"But wasn't Alexander the Great from Macedonia?", asked Alexei.

"Yes, the region has spawned some interesting people. Macedonia is quite a pleasant place to visit, only problem is the language. It's a separate language but has many similarities to Bulgarian and a vague similarity to northern Greek dialects, plus many of the people speak Serbo-Croatian and there's a large Albanian minority. Luckily I speak Serbo-Croatian, Bulgarian, and Greek", he laughed.

Tatiana looked down at the book and then Olga's translation. "I see it, they are similar. I wonder why our tutors never showed us that", she mused aloud.

"Perhaps they thought either country wasn't important, Tanya. It might have been easier for you to learn Serbo-Croatian or Bulgarian, your French is very good and your English as well, you might be able to pick up either", said Pierre.

"Perhaps, How long do we stay in Sofia?", asked Tatiana.

"Just overnight, tomorrow morning we get back on the train. We do stop in Belgrade for a few hours and Budapest as well, but I recommend staying at the station. In Vienna, we have to change trains against because of the grade but it's nonstop until we reach Paris. Just stay low-key until we reach Vienna", said Ian.


	8. Chapter 7 Part 1

"I have never been so happy to cross a border", said Ian with a happy sigh as the train crossed into Austria. 

"So there's no more Bolsheviks?", asked Anastasia.

"No, Austria is a civilized country. And the guards aren't going to be like the ones further east", said Pierre. 

"Are there many Russians in Britain?", asked Olga.

"In places like London or the bigger cities up north there's many Russians but a lot of them are Jews who came over last century. The Russian émigrés from the revolution mostly went to Paris or New York", said Ian.

"Oh dear. Are there many Orthodox churches in England?", asked Olga.

"Yes, but most are Greek. The only Russian church I know is in London, the closest Orthodox church in Manchester is Greek", said Pierre.

"Then how are we supposed to go to church? Please don't tell me people are atheists", said Olga in horror.

"No, but a lot of people are irreligious. They'll only go to church on Christmas and Easter, or for a wedding or baptism. Especially C of E people, other groups are more devout", said Ian.

"Then looks like we will have to go the Greek church", said Olga.

"I was thinking about attending the Catholic church", said Maria as Olga gave her younger sister a look.

"What would Mama and Papa think, Masha? You are Orthodox", admonished Olga.

"I don't want to go to a Greek church where I can't understand them. And Pierre is very attached to his church, I don't want that to cause problems", replied Maria.

"If you want, Maria. Why don't you attend a few services and see for yourself?", said Pierre.

"But aren't Catholics oppressed?", asked Maria.

"No, we have the same rights as you except that we cannot marry into the Royal Family, the ugly, inbred lot. Britain has religious freedom, one can follow any religion they like as long as no one gets hurt. Besides, do you think my father would have fled Spain to Britain otherwise?", asked Juan with a laugh.

"I suppose not. That means everyone, correct? But what about Jews or Muslims or others?", asked Olga.

"Yes, for everyone. Or no religion, if they prefer", said Ian.

"A lot of British people are irreligious, including the non-Christians. My good mate Brian in Liverpool is Jewish but whilst his parents are devout, he's quite secular. He rarely goes to the synagogue unless it's a Holy Day or for a wedding. Heck, he eats bacon butties and oysters on the half shell and those aren't kosher at all", said Pierre.

"Really? How odd", said Olga.

"That isn't odd, Olenka. I suppose some people aren't religious at all, then it's pointless to keep kosher. And bacon sandwiches and oysters are delicious", said Tatiana with a sly grin.

"Tanya! Bacon sandwiches are greasy", chided Olga.

"I've always been skinny, Olya. I'm not going to gain weight no matter what. And with the ciggies, it stops me from eating much", said Tatiana. She took out her new aluminum cigarette case with an enamel Red Rose of Lancaster on the lid and opened it to reveal about twenty cigarettes arranged on each side and held in place by a wide elastic band. 

"I want a box like that, except mine would have chocolates", said Anastasia.

"But it would have to be a big box the way you eat chocolate", teased Alexei as Anastasia stuck out her tongue at him.


	9. Chapter 7 Part 2

"This is the first town we can properly explore, Vienna is a lovely place", said Ian as the train pulled into the Gudbahnhof south of the Danube. Everyone got off the train as the porters unloaded bags and sent them to the baggage claim as the loudspeakers blared snatches of classical music in between announcements in German, Hungarian and Czech.

Ian hailed a cab outside the station and told the driver the address to their hotel. "Ja, you are British? Your accent is quite good, but sounds Northern", said the driver.

"Danke, Herr. My teacher was from Hamburg, the Austrian and Swiss accent can be a bit hard to understand. We're all headed back to Britain on tomorrow's train", said Ian.

"Ja, gut. My cousin works in London at a jewelry shop, are you from London?", he asked.

"Nein, Manchester", replied Ian.

The driver stopped outside a charming Baroque-façade house near Ringstrasse and Ian paid the driver before leading them inside. The interior resembled an aristocrat's townhouse rather than a hotel with its polished cream and pink marble floors, elegant white-painted wood furniture, upholstered in more cushions, intricately painted Chinese blue and white vases and gilt-framed paintings. "Lovely place, I stay here every time I go to Vienna", said Pierre.

"When we get to England, where are we going to live?", asked Alexi as the men went inside their room.

"In our house, I live with just my sister and we have extra room", said Ian.

"And there's extra room in my house, it's just me, Nicole and Hercule our dog", said Pierre.

"That makes sense but the one time we were separated was when Masha went with Mama and Papa to Ekaterinburg. I hate the idea of being separated", said Alexei.

"We live across the street from each other. Your sisters will eventually marry, Alexei. Do you really think they're going to be spinsters?", teased Juan.

Alexei blushed as the tips of his ears turned bright pink. "Of course not, but it does sound weird to think of my sisters being married. I do hope they find good husbands, but I'm too young to be thinking about t hat", he chuckled.

"Olga, Tanya I can't believe you don't want to go out! We've been on that train and couldn't see anything", exclaimed Anastasia as she sat up straight on the bed.

"We're getting old, Nastenka. And we have to stay safe until we're in England", said Tatiana.

"All right, but I wan to at least see Paris. Baba said she was going to take me to Paris one day", said Anastasia as a shadow crossed her face.

Maria hugged her. "We will go to Paris and shop and sightsee, Nastya. And later we can go for a longer time, France and England are close by", she said.

"All right, Vienna is not that big anyways", said Anastasia. 

Olga looked out the window and saw the street below with its little shops and couples and people walking dogs as a busker with a guitar played a pop song. "This is so peaceful, this feels safer than the rest of our trip", she said.

"I know. East of Austria is Bolshevik territory, the others called it the Iron Curtain. But once we're in England, then I will feel completely safe", said Tatiana.

"Same here, Tanya. And once we're in England, we can see London and the rest of the country", said Olga.

"I want to see London and shop, I want to see the Tower of London and the palaces. And I think it's amazing how Britain has a queen, our empresses were great rulers", said Anastasia.

"Manchester is only six hours by train from London, according to Ian", said Olga.

Tatiana joined her older sister at the window and took out her cigarette case as she selected one and lit the tip. The little curl of smoke at the end rose upwards for a bit before disappearing outside the window as she took a drag. "Tanya, you are the only one who doesn't fancy the lads", said Olga.

Tatiana exhaled and balanced the cigarette between her slim fingers. "There's three of them and four of us, Olya. But seriously, I want to start my studies at the nursing school soon as possible and get my license. I loved being a nurse at the hospital, and I want to be a nurse here. I may be too busy to have a boyfriend", she replied.

"Don't say that, Tanya. You were always the prettiest of us and you're still young, you're only 21. You will find someone", said Maria.

Tatiana smiled kindly at Maria, her younger sister's round blue eyes and pink cheeks the picture of youth and naiveté. "You always wanted a husband and children, Masha. I know you will be happy with Pierre, but I want to be established as a nurse before I think of having a husband", she said.

Olga nodded in understanding as Tatiana continued smoking her cigarette, the tube finally down to the very end barely a millimeter from her fingers before she dropped it into an ashtray. "You're not in danger of running out of cigs, Tanya", she chided.

Tatiana blushed. "It's a habit, remember the guards were stealing my cigarettes and Papa and I had to make them last long as possible. It's an old habit, but I can't help it", she replied.

Olga looked at her sister's fingertips and was relieved that they weren't burned. "Tanya, remember we're not in captivity anymore and you are not going to run out of cigarettes anytime soon. England is the land of milk and honey compared to Russia", she said.

"I won't feel it until we're actually in England", said Tatiana.

"At least we're going to see more of England than just Cowes, I was only seven and I don't remember much", said Anastasia.

And that is not even the mainland, Nastya. I do wonder what Manchester is like", Maria mused out loud.

"Juan says it's gray and rainy and chilly, but the people are a cheerful bunch and like to drink and there are many good music clubs and groups. Plus, there's a lot of Irish people", said Anastasia.

"We're half-English, grey and cold weather doesn't bother us. And what sort of musical groups would be popular now?", asked Maria.

"I hope we can dance to it, like ragtime", said Anastasia.

"And I hope it's proper dancing and not the sleazy sort at the cafes", said Tatiana.

"You ought to lighten up and go dancing, Governess", teased Anastasia.

"That's not my personality, Nastenka. And remember you are a lady", said Tatiana.


	10. Chapter 8 Part 1

I know its been a long time, but I hope this makes up for it, Part 2 ought to be up soon once I finish writing it.

“I can’t wait to do some shopping, I want to look like a real French lady”, declared Anastasia as their train pulled into Gare de L’Est.

“Shopping is boring, Nastya. I want to see the Louvre”, said Alexei.

“You can’t walk too far, Lyosha. Perhaps after you start your treatments”, said Pierre.

“I hate this, I’ve always wanted to see Paris and I’m a damn cripple”, he muttered.

“Don’t say that and don’t use that sort of language, Lyosha. You will get treatment and you will get better”, said Tatiana.

“I know the concierge at the hotel can get us tickets to the Moulin Rouge, it is the best cabaret in Paris. It is not scandalous at all, the dancers are very skilled”, said Ian.

“Really, like in the paintings? The ladies are so glamorous”, sighed Maria.

“You will be, mon alouette”, said Pierre as Maria blushed.

“Did you just call her a lark? I didn’t know you were that French”, teased Anastasia.

“Non, sont Anglais et Belgique Francais, mademoiselle. Don’t ever call a Belgian person French or Dutch, they don’t like it”, said Pierre.

“Both of you speak French as well?”, asked Olga asked Ian.

“Oui, vous etes une persone instruit en Grande-Bretagne vous devez parler Francais”, retorted Ian.

“Meme ici, c’est semblable a I’Espagnol donc c’etait facile pour moi”, laughed Juan.

“Your accents are very good, only Juan has a little Spanish accent”, said Tatiana with approval.

“And you have Swiss accents, but at least we can all speak it. Let’s use French while we’re here, it will be less conspicuous”, said Ian.

They retrieved their bags and Ian hailed a cab outside the station while Pierre hailed another. Four each got into the cabs and soon they were in Montmartre as the siblings looked out the windows in delight. The area had a peaceful, vaguely bucolic quality seemingly far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, terraced pastel-colored houses covered in ivy lining the streets and plots of gardens scattered around the neighborhood. Atop the namesake hill which dominated the skyline was the gleaming white ediface of the Basilica of Sacre Coeur, the white stone shining in the midday sun.

The cabs stopped outside a three-story brick building with little balconies outside the rooms as Ian and Pierre paid the drivers. “We always stay here in Paris, much prefer it to a big hotel”, said Pierre as they went inside.

“Bonjour, monsieurs Lacroix et Sutherland”, greeted the plump, middle-aged woman at the front desk as she kissed both men on the cheeks.

“Bonjour, Madame Duchamp”, said Ian as they spoke softly in French. The woman nodded and handed him two sets of keys as a porter to ok their bags and entered the elevator.

“Madame Duchamp inherited the house after her husband died and she turned into a hotel, it feels more like renting a flat than a regular hotel”, said Pierre as they got on the next elevator.

“I’m tired of all this moving around, when are we going to be in Manchester?”, asked Olga.

“Tomorrow we leave for Calais and then take the ferry to Dover, then the train to London and onto Manchester”, said Ian as they got off on the third floor.

The men went to one room while the women went to another. “I really want to see London,, but can we go there another time?”, asked Anastasia.

“Of course, Nastya. But when we get to Manchester, I just want to stay in one place”, said Olga.

“Same here, Olenka. But then I want to apply to nursing school”, said Tatiana.

“Me too”, Maria chimed in.

“I don’t, I want to explore the city. Manchester must have something to see”, said Anastasia.

The sisters each unpacked a set of clothes and their toiletries. Anastasia saw the odd-looking wooden box atop the nightstand and with its knobs and two rows of numbers behind a glass surface as she turned one of the knobs. There was a click and loud music burst forth from the box as the sisters nearly jumped to the ceiling in fright. “Amazing! It plays music but there’s no place for a phonograph”, said Olga in awe.

“I know, you just turned the knob and music comes out. Maybe they use a very small phonograph inside”, suggested Tatiana.

Anastasia turned the other knob and saw the red stick move towards the right as the numbers went higher. When she did the music would fade in and out and different kinds would play along with people speaking in French. “Ette chanson ete une grande success en avout dernier. Voici Johnny Leyton”, said the DJ.

The sisters were still as the haunting opening notes came from the radio along with a woman’s wailing voice before a man began to sing. The song with the wailing woman and eerie drums and guitar filled the air as they listened raptly to the music, unable to move. “That was amazing!”, exclaimed Maria.

It was followed by another song where a man with a handsome baritone performed a song about a girl named Marie who cheated on him with his friend, the man’s voice with an accent that drawled each vowel. “What is that music?”, asked Alexei as he entered the room.

“It comes from this box, I turned the knob and music came out”, said Anastasia.

“It’s called a radio, it picks up signals through the air like a telegraph”, said Alexei.

“It is, radios are cheap and everyone has got one, even little portable ones. I see you girls have found out about Elvis”, teased Juan.

“Is that the singer’s name? It’s an odd-sounding name”, said Maria.

“Yeah, he’s American and his full name is Elvis Presley. He’s very popular in England and he also does films”, said Ian.

“He has an excellent voice but the music is quite noisy, what is it?”, asked Tatiana.

“It’s called rock and roll, it’s American and many British young people like it. We do our own kind of rock but it’s rubbish for the most part, Brian just signed on to manage a rock music group”, said Pierre.

“What does that mean?”, asked Alexei.

“It means he finds them venues to perform and record an album and manages their money, that sort of thing. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have a penny since so many artists are terrible at managing money”, said Pierre.

“I see. Can we hear more of this rock and roll music in England?”, asked Anastasia as the radio played Crying by Roy Orbison.

 

“That man’s voice is wonderful! Is he an opera singer?”, exclaimed Maria.

“No, he’s Roy Orbison, a rock and roll singer from Texas in America. He could sing opera but I suppose it was more lucrative to perform rock music”, said Juan with a chuckle.

“Of course, when we’re settled in I can take you to Brian’s shop in Liverpool and we can look at the albums for sale. He can find any sort of music, that’s how he discovered the band he manages, the Beatles. People kept asking for this song they recorded whilst in Germany and he went to see them at a club in Liverpool and he liked them so much that he decided to manage them”, said Pierre.

“Interesting, I didn’t know people did that”, said Olga.

“Anyways, we couldn’t get tickets to the Moulin Rouge so we thought we’d go to the cinema instead. Films now have both sound and colour but many are still in black and white”, said Juan.

“Ohh, I love films!”, exclaimed Alexei.

“Then you will like them, there’s just one down the street”, said Ian.

“I want to buy presents for the family, so I’ll give it a pass. Plus, since my family owns a cinema I’ve seen more films than most people”, said Pierre with a laugh.

“That sounds great, we used to see films in the hall of our home on a projector. What is the name of your cinema?”, asked Maria.

“The Rose and Poppy, the Rose is the English flower and the Poppy is the Belgian flower. Grandpere opened the theatre back in the 20’s and it’s our family business, since I’m a professor and my brother is a priest, Nicole would inherit it when she grows up. She already loves films”, said Pierre.

“I’ll go with you, Pierre”, said Maria.

“Be on your best behavior, Pierre”, chided Tatiana.

“Je sais, Tanya”, he chuckled.


	11. Chapter 8 Part 2

“Baba always said she was going to take us girlies to Paris when we were old enough but the war broke out. The last time I wore a new dress was for my debut at sixteen”, said Maria.

“In England, only posh girls have debuts and ordinary girls just have a big birthday party. Our cousin Skye only had a simple one, she’s a proper Yorkshirewoman. She’s Ian’s sister, our Mum’s are sisters”, said Pierre.

“I see”, replied Maria.

“And which means our ancestry is an interesting one. My mum is half-Polish and half-English and my dad is Belgian French. Plus Nicole’s Mum was Greek, from Cyprus. There’s a lot of Cypriots in England”, he said.

“So that would make her half-Greek, part-Polish, part-Belgian and part-English. We’re part-German, part-English and part-Danish”, said Maria.

“Correct. And British by the grace of God”, he quipped.

Maria giggled. “I want to do some shopping, I will never wear such plain clothes again”, she declared, recalling the dull black skirt and white blouses they wore in captivity.

“And you won’t, Masha. Plus I want to buy a doll for Nicole, wherever I go I buy her a doll. She collects dolls from different countries and eras, she has got different dolls from Greece”, he said.

“Ancient Greek dresses are so pretty!”, she exclaimed.

“I know, but don’t call it a dress. It’s a chiton, since he’s the Greek expert. He’s taking Olga to the Petit Palais, it has a lot of 19th century pre-Impressionist art. I hope she can keep up with him, he knows more about ancient Greece than anyone”, he chuckled.

“People go to university to study that?”, she asked.

“Oui, and he teaches it. His particular study is the Hellenistic era, that’s the Peloponnesian Wars and Macedonia and Alexander. And he knows both Greeks like me, plus he is an Orthodox Christian. He had to explain this to his Mum that it was Greek Orthodox and not Russian Orthodox. Our mums don’t like Russians because the Bolsheviks took our family’s estates in eastern Poland. Bloody wankers, pardon my language”, he muttered.

“How awful! But we don’t like the Bolsheviks either”, said Maria.

“Mum won’t mind, it’s the Bolshevik Russians she doesn’t like. Her family, the Jablonskis, are a noble Polish family and our lands are now in the Soviet Union in Belarus. They had to flee the advancing Bolshevik army and made it to the Baltic and got on a ship to Sweden and then England after the war. So if it wasn’t for those bastards, I’d be Count Jablonski”, said Pierre with a grim smile.

“But you are an Englishman and far away now”, she replied.

“I know. Let’s go Le Bon Marche, it’s a big series of shops which sells all sorts of things”, he said.

“I do need to get new clothes, I do hope they have dresses in my size”, said Tatiana.

“They do, you are taller than average but thin and many French clothes were made for thin women. And I ought to buy something for Mum and Skye, my cousin. She’s big into fashionable clothes since she’s a nurse and has to wear a uniform much of the time”, said Pierre.

Maria felt vaguely irritated. “Don’t be jealous, Masha. I know you’re sweet on Pierre and I would never try to take your boyfriend”, chided Tatiana.

Maria turned beet red. “Sorry, Tanya”, she mumbled.

“Well then, Maria, do you want to be my girlfriend? Mum thinks it’s about time I found a girlfriend and Nicole needs a Mum”, he said.

“Da, is that like courting? Yes, I would like that very much”, she replied.

Pierre beamed and gave her a hug. “Pardon, Masha”, he said.

“No, I liked it. The only people who have hugged me are my siblings and Mama and Papa and Baba”, she said.

“We will pay for a requiem mass when we arrive in England, Masha. Is there an Orthodox church in Manchester?”, asked Tatiana.

“Yes, there’s several Greek Orthodox churches but no Russian ones, many of the Russians in Britain are Jews. And Ian is an Orthodox Christian, I’m Catholic”, said Pierre.

“Good”, said Tatiana.

The trio left the hotel and Pierre asked the concierge for a taxi. “I do like Paris but I prefer up North, northern France and Wallonia since Dad’s people are originally from there. My French is the northern variety but I do have a standard accent when I speak to officialdom”, he said.

“I’m getting dizzy, I want to see everything. I’m sounding like Nastya now”, said Maria with a laugh.

“Everything is new to us, Masha. But I want to settle down first before we go places”, said Tatiana.

“If Olga is going to be Ian’s girlfriend, she’s going to travel a lot with him. Ian regularly goes to Greece and Turkey for his research, and he’s also been to Egypt, Persia and Afghanistan since Alexander founded cities there. Unfortunately areas like Uzbekistan and Tajikistan are part of the Soviet Union and they don’t like foreign archaeologists in the country”, he said.

“Olya would love that, she is the smartest of all us and enjoyed history lessons. She wanted her history teach to teach her Latin and Greek but Mama didn’t think it was appropriate for a girl”, said Tatiana.

“He’ll teach her if she wants, none of his other girlfriends were interested. Anyways, the taxi is here”, said Pierre.

He led them outside towards the waiting taxi and opened the door for the women before telling the driver the destination. The girls were speechless in awe as the cab made its way towards the Seine and crossed the river, the banks lined with little cafes and shops with people out and about strolling and walking dogs. To the left they could see the imposing spires of Notre Dame as they pressed their faces against the glass. “Paris has amazing churches, period. Much grander than anything in England”, he said.

The taxi stopped at Le Bon Marche and Pierre paid the fair. “Mum likes to shop here whilst in Paris, her Nan shopped here as well”, he said.

The cool interior of the Belle Epoque department store reminded them of the fancy shops they’d seen in St. Petersburg with their aunts. Mannequins in the windows displayed the latest in high fashion while the makeup area had impeccably dressed and impossibly thin, chic women in black who helped out posh ladies. The delicate scent of rose and peony perfumes hung in the air like a fine mist while the salesladies hovered in the background.

“I wonder if they have Worth, I always wanted one”, said Tatiana.

“Chic Parisian women wear Chanel now, only very old ladies wear Worth”, said Pierre as he led them to the Chanel section.

“These are lovely!”, exclaimed Maria as she examined a baby blue A-line Chanel dress.

“It’s what chic Parisian women wear, there’s posh shops in London but Paris has the best. Mum orders her dresses here and so does Babcia”, he said.

Tatiana eyed a white A-line dress with black lace trim. “I will repay you for this once I become a nurse”, she said.

“No worries, between Mum and Dad and myself I’m wealthy enough. And after all the unpleasantness, you girls deserve nice things and stability”, he said.

They spent the rest of the afternoon shopping and Pierre made sure to get several dresses and toys for Nicole. “This is just darling”, cooed Maria s the shop assistant wrapped up a dark-haired porcelain doll in a deep red and black lace Belle Epoque dress.

“Nicole loves dolls and I did promise her a French doll. Wait until you see her collection, she also has dolls in outfits from ancient civilizations that I bought her. Ian and Skye are also her godparents”, he said.

Pierre told the saleslady to deliver the packages to the hotel and led them to the store’s cafe. Posh ladies in the latest fashions sat at tiny wrought-iron tables and sipped tea and nibbled exquisite little cakes as soft classical music played in the background. The interior of the cafe was done in an elegant modern take on the Belle Epoque, the walls painted cream with pink roses and the furnishings pale rose pink and cream and dainty as though belonging to a doll’s house.

They found an empty table and Pierre ordered a pot of Darjeeling along with macaroons. “Nicole loves Paris and it’s her favorite place after Ayia Napa where her mother’s family is from and where we have a house. Her mum Marina was from Cyprus and the family came to England after the war, we met at uni whilst in the same Greek history class”, said Pierre.

“I’m sorry about your wife”, said Maria.

Pierre gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand. “Mum says I ought to find a girlfriend and Nicole needs a mum, even her Giagia wants me to find a girlfriend. Giagia is Greek for gran”, he said.

“I can’t wait to meet her, Nicole sounds like a darling girl”, said Maria.

“She is, she keeps asking when she’s going to have a Mummy. Her Babcia and Giagia are lovely but she wants a Mum”, said Pierre.

“Masha, you always wanted children and it looks as though you’re getting your wish”, teased Tatiana as Maria blushed.


End file.
